


the space that's in between

by Jennaalmarie



Category: Green Day
Genre: Billie is only mentioned, Gen, mike's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennaalmarie/pseuds/Jennaalmarie
Summary: Mike would like it if time would move faster





	the space that's in between

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyyooooo so here we are with another one. This was written as a follow up to my [first](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767540) piece. Title is once again lifted from Jesus of Suburbia, and again I give many thanks to [onehellofashipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onehellofashipper)

The parking lot was full of other beat up trucks, interspersed with the slightly fancier cars of the kids with rich parents. The similarity they all shared was the kids who owned them were inside the squat concrete building on the far side of the lot, and the only person still sitting inside his truck clenching the steering wheel between both hands was Mike. 

Billie had already officially dropped out, but Mike was trying to get through the last twenty-three days and six hours and fifteen minutes of his senior year to make it seem like he tried to make an effort. At this moment however, the only thing he wanted to do was reverse his truck out of the parking lot and make his way to Billie’s house. When the thought first crossed his mind, he tried to violently shake it away, he had seen the other boy just yesterday when they had been holed up for fifteen hours smoking the pot Billie had gotten and scrawling down new lyrics and chords. 

Sitting on the bench seat next to Mike’s thigh was one of the new notebooks that he had started writing lyrics in, but halfway through it changed to soliloquies about Billie’s face and his hands and his tiny shoulders and his crooked smile and _holy fuck Mike could you stop being so gay for a minute and a half._ Mike had added a new poem just this morning and just wanted to get high again to forget about how he felt for his best friend because _what if Billie ever found out._

Mike had kept his feelings for Billie under wraps after he figured out that girls didn’t always do it for him but Billie definitely did and the last thing he wanted to do was tear their friendship apart, they were supposed to be _MikeandBillie_ and _BillieandMike._

Mike checked the time on his watch again, the numbers still taunting him with _9:25am_ instead of the _4:30pm_ that he really wanted to see. The magic time when he could flee the building with the rest of the weed-soaked teenagers and then make the twenty-minute drive where he could then dig out the coveted key he got from Ollie all those years ago and bolt up the stairs before finally being back in Billie’s orbit. 

Mike glanced down at his watch one more time, _9:27am._ He knew that Billie would still be in bed, curled up under his giant comforter on his tiny bed, automatically leaving that space between his back and the wall where Mike would just fit and he’d be able to slip under the cover into the warm space with Billie and then he’d get that stupid sleepy grin that Mike was more than a little in love with before he’d take Billie in his arms and they would lay there for hours. 

Banging his head gently against the wheel, Mike groaned out loud. Billie wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ feel the same. Billie was always flirting with the girls at their shows and during breaks he’d disappear into the bathrooms with one of the girls who had curves everywhere and return with lipstick smeared at the corners of his mouth and onto his neck, his eyes half-lidded but with concealed amazement as he assured Mike that _it was nothing Mikey, it’s all good you know?_

Mike would smile back and try to hold the vomit in his throat back as he kept thinking: _I should be the one making his lips redder than they already are, I should be the one leaving marks on the delicate skin of his neck, I should be the one putting that look in his eyes it should be me!_

Sometimes Mike wanted his brain to shut up. 

If he walked into his first class at this exact moment, Mike wouldn’t be late. If he started his car at this exact moment and left the bored security guard who was posted at the entrance to the property would get on his case for leaving and then he definitely wouldn’t see Billie later. 

Mike let out a strangled groan of frustration before grabbing his notebook and shoving it inside his beat-up backpack before finally making the seemingly monumental move out the door and starting the trek up to the prison like building.

_Twenty-three days and five hours and forty-five minutes._


End file.
